Arthur Kirkland
by TotalWeirdo666
Summary: A practically perfect male nanny bewitches two Italian children, as well as a French entertainer/chimney sweep. Essentially just the movie with Hetalia characters.
1. What's to happen all happened before

The year was 1910. The sun was just rising over the city of London, causing beautiful colors to peek just over the edges of the gloomy clouds.

Upon one of these clouds sat a man with unkempt blonde hair, bushy eyebrows and captivating green eyes. The most prominent feature of his appearance, however—aside from the fact that he was sitting on a cloud—was the fact that he was wearing a dress.

It was a very plain dress, a simple thing that was somewhere between black and navy blue. Upon his head sat a rather feminine hat dappled with flowers, and the orange scarf around his neck seemed to bring the whole outfit together.

The man stared into a little pocket mirror, fussing with his hair; occasionally pulling up the bag and umbrella, which kept trying to sink through the cloud. He wanted to look his best for what lay in store.

* * *

Far below, a crowd stood around a very talented one-man-band. His name was Francis Bonnefoy, and everyone in town knew him as the nutty Frenchman who was apparently something different everyday. Today, he was an entertainer. He had long, wavy blonde hair; which despite his habit to not bathe often always looked soft and touchable. His chin was brushed with stubble. This, combined with the hair and lovely cerulean eyes, made him a devilishly attractive fellow. While deep down, he had a very flamboyant fashion sense, he was dressed very plainly (so as to not "intimidate the tacky British people", he would say).

Francis played a pleasant tune on his concertina, occasionally blowing the horn next to his head or beating on the drum on his back. Finishing his song, he took a bow as his audience applauded. While he was perfectly fluent in English, he heavily peppered his language with words of his native tongue, as it added a certain flair to his character.

"Très bien, mesdames et messieurs… A comical poem, suited for the occasion, extemporized and thought of before your very eyes." Luckily, he knew just about everyone here—not to mention he had always been very clever—so this wouldn't be at all difficult. "Room here for everyone, gather around—_the constable response-table_, now how does that sound?"

Constable Beilschmidt—a rather sociopathic albino of whom everyone was a little afraid—sniggered as Francis went on.

Turning to a small Japanese businessman, he continued: "Bonjour, Monsieur Honda, I have one pour vous…" he thought for a split-second, then said, "_Kiku… likes to stew… in his bath, in ze loo_."

Kiku's face turned bright red, and the crowd let out a few giggles. It was a well-known fact that Mr. Honda was rather obsessive when it came to bathing. The French entertainer turned and searched the crowd until he found another face he could make up a poem about.

"Monsieur Braginski, a story for you: _Your sisters were taller than you… but you grew._"

This made everyone including him laugh. It was a well-known fact that Ivan Braginski seemed to tower over nearly everyone in London. His two sisters stood on either side of him, leaning up against his sturdy form.

Moving on, Francis stopped before the Greek man who was known to take in stray cats. "Monsieur Karpusi…" he began, but stopped to gaze up at the sky as a gust of wind blew his long hair across his face.

"Yes…?" prompted the Grecian, but Francis seemed preoccupied, his face unreadable.

"_Winds in the east_…" he murmured, "… _mist coming in… like something is brewing, about to begin… Je ne sais pas… quite what lies in store… _But I feel what's to happen… all happened before."

People in the crowd glanced at each other in confusion, and Francis shook the thoughts out of his head. "Je suis désolé, where was I?" he said with a large, fake smile, and proceeded to rip into an upbeat tune on his concertina. He ended with a grand finale of much drumming and horn-tooting, and finally crashed a cymbal into his face.

Everyone applauded, and the crowd began to scatter. Francis held out his hat, hoping to get a few donations for his tiring work, and did end up with a couple.

Strolling down Cherry Tree Lane, he passed the home of Admiral Jones, the half-mad ex-captain who lived in his ship of a house with his old First Mate Williams. They periodically shot off their cannons, resulting in a neighborhood-wide earthquake.

Also on this street, in house number seventeen, lived the rather dysfunctional Edelstein family. And right now, they were having a bit of a fiasco.

* * *

"I wouldn't stay in this house another minute, not even if you gave me all the chocolate in Belgium!"

"Oh, please, Nanny Bella, you can't go!" whined the Lithuanian servant, standing between the nanny and the door.

"Step away from that door."

"But what will I tell Miss Eliza when she comes home?"

"It's no concern of mine. They've run away from me for the last time."

Toris continued begging the nanny not to leave, but she refused. Feliks, who had never liked Bella in the first place, shrugged and returned to the kitchen.

Elizabeta chose this moment to make her entrance, singing songs from her rally. She was a headstrong woman, and in many ways was more manly than her husband. She could easily be the head of the family, if not for the state of things during that time.

"Good evening, Nanny Bella, Toris. We had the most glorious meeting. Lili chained herself to the prime minister's carriage—you should've been there!"

Not allowing the Belgian nanny to tell her a single thing, she broke into a song from her suffrage group. "_We're clearly soldiers in petticoats, dauntless crusaders for women's votes! Though we adore men individually, we agree that as a group they're rather stupid…_"

Toris and Feliks immediately joined in, despite both being male; they knew better than to try and stop Elizabeta when she was singing.

Right in the middle of her finale, however, she was interrupted by the nanny. "What is it, Nanny Bella?"

"I have something to say to you."

"Where are the boys?"

"The children, to be precise, are not here. They've gone and disappeared again."

After quite a bit of confusion, the nanny finally got her point across that the children were missing and she was sick of it.

"Please—think of my husband," Eliza begged, "he was just starting to get used to it."

Glancing at the time, Toris's eyes widened. "Posts, everyone!"

He, Feliks and Eliza all dashed off in different directions to hold their belongings stable while Admiral Jones fired his cannons, setting off quite a bit of chaos in the house for a few minutes. It was mainly vitally important for Mr. Edelstein's grand piano to be unharmed.

And speaking of Roderich Edelstein, he was returning home from work, in an exceptionally good mood.

Glancing up at Alfred in his perch, he said cheerfully, "Aren't you a bit early tonight, Admiral?"

"Nonsense, I'm always on time," the American said. "How are things in the world of instruments?"

"Never better! Thanks to some performer fellow in the park, concertinas have been selling exceptionally well lately."

Roderich continued without listening to whatever it was Alfred said, in such a good mood that he stopped and helped Bella put her things into the carriage.

"I feel a surge of deep satisfaction," he stated as he entered his house, "much as a king aside his noble steed. When I return from daily strife to hearth and wife… How pleasant is the life I lead!"

"Dear, it's about the children…" Eliza began, worried, but he waved her off and continued his musical monologue.

"I run my home precisely on schedule. At six-oh-one, I march through my door. My violin and bow are due at six-oh-two… Consistent is the life I lead!"

"Roderich, they're missing!"

He ignored her until he was finished, then sat down with his violin and looked up. "Elizabeta? Where are the children?"

"They're not here."

"Why, of course they're here! Where else would they be?"

"I don't know, Roderich, but they're missing. Nanny Bella has looked everywhere."

Roderich immediately got up, set down the violin, and called the police to report them missing. The doorbell rang, and Elizabeta answered it to see Constable Beilschmidt, so he hung up.

"While going about mein duties the park, I found some valuables that I believe belong to you," the German policeman said, his red eyes rather disturbing the room's occupants.

"Valuables?" Roderich echoed.

The constable turned and beckoned them in—two small boys, one slightly older than the other.

"Feli… Lovi," Eliza said, relieved, hugging the two. Being unable to have children of their own, the Edelsteins had adopted the brothers while touring Italy. They thought of the boys as their own children, of course, having had them since infancy.

"I'm sorry we lost Nanny Bella," Feliciano, the younger brother, said miserably. "But, you see, our kite flew off into the park, and we had to go get it…"

"It wasn't a very good kite, though," added Lovino. "We made it ourselves, and the genius here insisted on adding that heavy glitter…"

"I wanted to make it pretty!" Feliciano protested.

"You can't blame them," said Gilbert Beilschmidt. "Kites are skittish things, you know…"

"Thank you, Constable, that'll be all," said Roderich, annoyed. The albino left, and Toris escorted the children upstairs.

"Elizabeta," Roderich said crossly, "this is the fourth nanny that's left us this month. Choosing a nanny is an important and delicate task. It requires insight, balanced judgment, and the ability to read character. I think I shall take it upon myself to find a new nanny. I'll put it in the times. Take this down, dear…"

Eliza sat down and wrote down Roderich's very to-the-point and rather intimidating description of the perfect nanny.

"Father?" came a feeble voice. Roderich turned to see his sons standing in the doorway, in their pajamas, Lovino holding a piece of paper.

"We've discussed everything, and we're very sorry about running away," recited Lovino. "It was wrong to run from Nanny Bella."  
"I should certainly think so," Roderich agreed.

"We wrote an advertisement for the new nanny," piped up Feliciano.

Reluctantly, and with Eliza's approval, Roderich allowed Feliciano to read it. While he was younger, he was in some ways more mature than his brother.

"Wanted: a nanny for two bambini adorabili. _If you want this choice position,_

_Have a cheery disposition. Rosy cheeks, no warts—_"

"That's the part in!" Lovino pointed out.

"_Play games, all sorts. You must be kind, you must be witty, very sweet and fairly pretty. Take us on outings, give us treats, sing songs, bring sweets. Never be cross or cruel, never give us castor oil or gruel. Love us as a son and daughter, and never smell of barley water_~"

"I put that in too," Lovino added proudly.

Feliciano continued. "_If you won't scold and dominate us, we will never give you cause to hate us. We won't hide your spectacles so you can't see, put toads in your bed or pepper in your tea… Hurry, Nanny! That'd be fine, sincerely…_"

"Feli and Lovi Edelstein," they both said simultaneously.

Roderich was silent for a moment, then waved them off. "Thank you, children, now off to bed."

Heads hung low, the boys returned to the nursery.

"They were only trying to help, they're just children," Eliza pointed out.

"Which is exactly why they can't be trusted to make any decisions!" Roderich snapped, ripping up the children's advertisement and throwing it into the fireplace.

* * *

_From what I've seen, Hetalia-Disney crossovers have not been done very much or very well. I intend to do several of these, starting with what might be my favorite movie of all time- Mary Poppins. The main character of each of my Disneytalia works will always be the country in which the movie takes place._

_Reviews would be nice~! We'll get to see Arthur in action in chapter 2!_


	2. We are not a codfish

Admiral Jones glanced up at his weather vane. The wind had changed.

"Time gun ready?" he demanded.

"Ready and charged, sir," replied his first mate.

"I'll take the report, Mr. Williams," the American prompted.

"The wind has changed, sir. Seems to be coming in from a new quarter."

"So it is."

"… Sir?" asked the Canadian first mate after a moment.

"What is it, dude?"

"Bit of something taking place off the port bow, eh?"

"Whoa! That's one totally nasty-ass crew."

An enormous crowd of nannies stood crowded around 17 Cherry Tree Lane, having answered Roderich's advertisement. Seeing them out the window, Toris dashed back into the dining room.

"There's an awful lot of nannies outside, sir, shall I show them in?" he asked his master.

"Toris, I said eight o'clock, and eight o'clock it shall be," insisted Roderich, taking out his pocketwatch. "You see? Twelve seconds to go. Ten… Nine… Eight…"

"POSTS!" shouted Elizabeta, rising from her chair and rushing to the piano, continuing her countdown. Roderich stood and sipped his coffee as his wife and servants held down the various furniture as the crazy admiral fired his cannons yet again.

"Toris, it is _now_ eight o'clock," Roderich said matter-of-factly a moment after the explosion.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"I don't understand," complained Lovino as he and his brother watched the crowd of nannies from the nursery window, "they're not what we advertised for at all."

Feliciano nodded in agreement. The wind began to pick up. Nannies began to stagger backwards, holding their hats, but the gust continued to blow stronger and stronger until it was literally blowing them away. Feliciano's jaw dropped and Lovino grinned in guilty amusement as the nannies all flew down the street and out of sight.

As quickly as it had picked up, the wind died down. Lovino glanced up and gasped.

"Feli, look!" he shouted, pointing. The boys stared up into the sky to see a figure slowly descending in their direction. Out in the distance, it appeared to be a woman holding an umbrella.

"Could it be a witch?" wondered Feliciano.

"Of course not, you idiot, witches have brooms," his brother told him.

The figure landed gracefully in front of the house, scarf lightly fluttering in the wind.

"It's her, it's the person, she's answered our advertisement!" Feliciano said excitedly.

"That's not a 'her'…" Lovino pointed out, perplexed. "But he has got the rosy cheeks and everything."

The man in the dress used his umbrella to ring the doorbell.

Inside, Roderich told Toris to show the nannies in, one at a time. He opened the door and began to recite, "You may come in, one at a time," but stopped and stared at the blonde man.

"Thank you," Arthur said curtly, entering the house.

Toris watched him as he went into the parlor, utterly confused. Was that a_ man_…?

Arthur found Roderich beginning the paperwork that went with hiring a nanny.

"You are the father of Feli and Lovi Edelstein, are you not?" he asked.

Roderich looked up at him, realized it was a _him_, and found himself at a loss for words. The man was rather effeminate, not to mention he was wearing a dress, but he was still clearly a man.

"I said you _are_ the father of Feli and Lovi Edelstein," Arthur repeated.

"I—well—yes, of course," replied Roderich, flustered. "And you…?"

"Why, I'm here for the nanny job, of course."

"But you're…"

"Male, yes, I am aware of my own gender, thank you. Now, the qualifications—" Arthur began to pull out a piece of paper.

"W-well, may I at least see your references, then?"

"Oh, I make it a point never to give references. A very old-fashioned idea to my mind."

"Is that so." _I suppose the idea of men wearing trousers and nannies being women is also old-fashioned to your mind,_ Roderich thought, but he held his tongue.

"Now then, the qualifications." Arthur proceeded to pull out the paper he had tried to a moment before. "Item one: a cheery disposition. I am never cross. Item two: rosy cheeks." As if on cue, the blonde began to blush slightly, and cleared his throat.

As Arthur continued, Roderich looked up and saw the paper he held had clearly been torn up and pasted back together. He stood and took it from him.

"May I—this paper, where did you get it from? I thought I tore it up."

"Excuse me," Arthur said, taking the paper back. "Item four: you must be kind. I am kind but extremely firm." Glancing up to see Roderich fussing around the fireplace. "Have you lost something?"

Roderich bumped his head on the mantle and turned around. "Th-that paper, you see, I…"

"You _are_ Roderich Edelstein, are you not?"

"What?"

"And you _did_ advertise for a nanny, did you not?"

"… Roderich Edelstein…" he echoed distractedly, still looking through the fireplace. He began to mumble to himself, "I tore it up… turned it over… tore it up again, and threw it away…"

Arthur stared at him for a moment. "I beg your pardon, are you ill?"

"I hope not," Roderich said in response.

After a moment more, Arthur shook his head. "Now, about my wages. The reference here is _very_ obscure. We must be very clear on that point, mustn't we? I shall require every second Tuesday off."

Roderich blankly repeated the last few words of every sentence, baffled about the entire situation.

Watching him, Arthur furrowed his thick brow. "On second thought, I believe a trial period would be wise. He squinted at Roderich for a moment. "Hmm… I'll give you one week," he decided. "I'll know by then."

Leaving Roderich by the fireplace, Arthur marched across the room, picked up his bag, and announced, "I'll see the children now."

The children, who had been listening in on the entire conversation, hunkered down and watched the man in the dress hop onto the banister and somehow ride it all the way up. They flattened themselves up against the wall as he stopped directly in front of them.

"Close you mouth, Feliciano, we are not a codfish," he ordered the younger brother, whose jaw was still agape. The child did as he was told without a word.

"Well, don't stand there staring, best foot forward," Arthur commanded as he hopped off the banister and beckoned them up the stairs. "Spit-spot."

* * *

"Roderich, what on Earth are you doing?" Elizabeta inquired after entering the parlor to find her husband with his head in the fireplace. "I thought you were interviewing nannies."

"I was, I was..."

"You mean you've selected one already?"

"Yes, it's done, it's all done."

"Well, where is she?"

"She's in the nursery, of course. I put her to work straight away," Roderich replied, trying not to sound as flustered as he felt.

"How clever of you. I would have muddled the whole thing," Eliza raved. "Tell me—is she everything that we hoped she'd be?"

"He," Roderich corrected.

"Beg pardon?"

"The nanny is a man."

"A male nanny? How absurd! How did that happen?"

"I can't really say—it all happened so quickly… I…"

"Well, I suppose gender doesn't matter all that much," Elizabeta pondered, being the feminist she was. If a woman should have the rights of a man, shouldn't a man be allowed to do a woman's job as well? "But will he be firm, will he give commands, will he mould our young breed…?"

After a moment's thought, Roderich turned and took his wife's hands. "You know, Eliza, I think he will." He began to laugh happily. "I think he will!"

* * *

_I know this chapter is quite short, but I suspect with the differences in scene lengths there may be a wide variety of chapter lengths._

_Reviews are always appreciated!_


	3. A spoonful of sugar

"Sorry the nursery's such a dump," grunted Lovino, standing before Arthur with his brother.

"It _is_ rather like a barricade, isn't it?" the nanny agreed as he glanced around the room.

"That's a funny-looking bag," Feliciano observed, pointing to the large bag Arthur carried.

"It's a carpet bag," Arthur replied.

"A bag to hold carpets?"

"Nope. Made of."

The blonde man marched to the room in which he would be staying and looked around. Aside from the nice view of the park through the window, the room was very plain.

"Well, it's not exactly Buckingham Palace," Arthur sniffed. "Still, it's clean… Yes, I think it will be quite suitable. Just needs a touch here and there."

Walking over to his carpet bag, which he'd set on the table, he opened it and pulled out a hat stand. He removed his flowery hat, put it on the stand and set it in the corner. The children looked at each other, mouths agape, then peered into the bag, only to find it empty.

Arthur caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, shook his head and returned to the carpet bag. Pulling out a large, decadent, golden mirror, he proclaimed, "I like to see my entire face at the same time."

"But there was nothing in there!" Feliciano protested, utterly confused.

"Never judge things by their appearance," Arthur warned as he fussed with his spiky blonde hair. He left the mirror and pulled a few more things from the bag—a potted plant, a floor lamp, a chair (which he warned the boys NEVER to sit in without a death wish)—until finally he seemed satisfied with the appearance of the room.

"Now, let me see," Arthur said with a sigh as he began to dig through the carpet bag, throwing out all sorts of junk and full-on sticking his face in. "Funny, I always carry it with me, it must be somewhere…" he muttered. Finally, he pulled out a tape measure and sat down on the bed.

"I want to see how you two measure up," he explained. Grabbing Lovino, Arthur commanded him to stand up straight and proceeded to measure him. Glancing at the tape, he announced, "Just as I thought. 'Extremely stubborn and grumpy.'"

Feliciano began to laugh, and Lovino scowled. "I am _not_!"

"Yes you are, see for yourself." Arthur held out the tape for Lovino to read exactly what the blonde had told him.

The younger brother continued to giggle, then stopped abruptly as Arthur stooped down to measure him.

"Hmm… 'Rather inclined to giggle, low attention span.'"

This made Lovino laugh. "How about you?" he asked, looking up at Arthur.

With a sigh, Arthur handed the end of the tape to Feliciano so as to help him measure himself; despite already knowing exactly what he would measure up to.

"As I expected," he said curtly, looking at the tape. "'Arthur Kirkland, practically perfect in every way.'"

"Arthur Kirkland?" repeated Feliciano as he stood back up. "Is that your name? I love it!"

"Thank you. I've always liked it. Now, shall we get on with it?"

"Get on with what?" echoed Feli.

"In your advertisement, did you not specifically request to play games?"

"Oh, yes."

"Very well then. Our first game is called 'Well Begun is Half-Done…'"

"I don't like the sound of that," muttered Lovino.

"… otherwise entitled, 'Let's Tidy Up the Nursery.'"

Lovino shot an _I told you so_ look at his brother.

"It _is_ a game, isn't it, Arthur Kirkland?" asked Feliciano, scratching his head.

"Well, that depends on how you look at it," Arthur explained. "You see, in every job there must be done, there is an element of fun. You find the fun, aaaand… _Snap!_ The job's a game!"

His speaking changed to singing as he began to walk around the room, inspecting it. "_And every task you undertake becomes a piece of cake. A lark! A spree! It's very clear to see… That a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go down, the medicine go down… Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, in the most delightful way._"

Hearing birdsong, Arthur opened the window to see two birds: a rather French-looking white one and a Prussian-looking yellow one. He continued his song.

"_A robin feathering his nest has very little time to rest, while gathering his bits of twine and twig… Though quite intent in his pursuit, he has a merry tune to toot. He knows a song will move the job along…_"

The white bird hopped onto Arthur's arm and began to tweet along with his song. Lovino looked away, as though embarrassed; while Feliciano watched in glee with a dumb grin plastered on his face. Once Arthur was done prancing around the room with his bird, he sent it back out the window and turned to face the room. With a single snap of his fingers, he caused the beds to make themselves and toys to put themselves away.

Lovino stared in awe, while Feliciano rushed over to the dollhouse, eager to do the same. He tried to snap his fingers, failed, tried again, succeeded, and watched the doll furniture arrange itself in the little rooms. Lovi faced a pile of clothes on the floor and tried to snap, but couldn't.

It was quite the spectacle—pictures straightening, toys flying into the toybox, clothes folding up and being placed in drawers—with nothing but a snap.

Impressed at the progress they were making, Arthur continued to sing. "_The honeybees that fetch the nectar from the flowers to the comb never tire of ever buzzing to and fro. Because they take a little nip from every flower that they sip, and hence they find their task is not a grind…_" He sang this in front of the mirror as he put his coat and hat back on, and his reflection—which had been singing along with him—insisted on holding each note a little too long.

Arthur called for the children to hurry things up, and chaos broke out. Lovino ended up locked in the wardrobe; and Feliciano accidentally made his rocking horse angry at him, causing it to corner him and head-butt him repeatedly. Drawers and cabinets started opening and closing for no reason, until Arthur had to yell, "WERE YOU QUITE FINISHED?" at the room. Opening the wardrobe and pulling Lovi out, he grabbed both boys' coats and hats and forced the children into their outside clothes.

"But I don't want to go on an outing," Feli protested, "I want to tidy up the nursery again."

Ignoring him, Arthur continued talking practically to himself, "Well, let me look at you. Hm… You're not as well turned-out as I'd liked. Still, there's time. Spit-spot! And _off we go!_"

He whistled the tune of his song as the boys sang along with it, and the three left the nursery together, riding the banister down the stairs rather than walking. Toris, who was out dusting the hall, watched in shock as they slid down the rail and promptly exited out the front door.


	4. Jolly holiday

Francis Bonnefoy kneeled over a sidewalk chalk drawing, very immersed in his work. Today he was a screever, an artist of highest degree. Adding the finishing touches to his drawing, he put out his cap in hopes of collecting a coin or two, and proceeded to sit and wait.

A shadow fell over a drawing of a blank frame.

"Attendez!" he shouted, grabbing a piece of black chalk and tracing the shadow. "Don't move. Don't move a muscle… I'd know that silhouette anywhere…" Looking up with a grin, he exclaimed, "Arthur Kirkland!"

"It's nice to see you again, Francis," Arthur said with a stiff smile, trying to shove images of his past with this man out of his mind. "I expect you know Feliciano and Lovino?"

"Oui, I've seen them from time to time. Chasing a kite last time, was it not?"

Feli nodded excitedly. "Arthur Kirkland is taking us to the park!"

"To the _park_?" the Frenchman scoffed. "Not if I know Arthur Kirkland. Other nannies take enfants to the _park_. When you're with Arthur Kirkland, suddenly you're in places you've never _dreamed_ of."

The briefest of glances was exchanged between the two adults, one that went undetected by the children. From Francis was a sly grin, and from Arthur was a cold glare, as memories flooded over both of them.

"I'm sure I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Arthur said curtly.

Francis merely continued. "Well, it's not my place to say, but what he's probably got in mind is a vacances joyeux somewhere…"

Arthur watched in mild amusement as Francis demonstrated each one of his chalk drawings in a very animated fashion. Entertaining was the Frenchman's forte, as Arthur himself knew all too well.

"I'd like to go there," said Feliciano, pointing at a drawing of a pleasant landscape.

"Beautiful, non? A typical Anglais countryside, as done by a true and loving hand." He glanced up at Arthur as he said this, trying to convey the deeper meaning behind his words without giving anything away to the children. "You can't see it, but there's a fair down that road and over the hill."

"I don't see any road," Lovino said bluntly.

Francis shrugged, grabbed a piece of chalk and drew said road. "There," he said proudly, "a country road. Suitable for travel et high adventure.

"Oh, please, may we go, Arthur?" begged Lovino.

"Please, it's such a lovely place," added Feliciano.

When Arthur refused, Francis continued making a spectacle out of himself with silly tricks that absolutely did not work, such as winking and turning around and so on. Finally, Arthur had to intervene.

"Francis, what utter nonsense!" he cried, stepping over the chalk drawing and taking Lovino's hand. After lecturing Francis on complicating the simplest of things, he counted to three, and the four of them jumped.

* * *

When the cloud of chalk dust settled, they found themselves on the road in the landscape, all dressed in a more fancy manner than before. Lovino looked at Feliciano, who was now wearing a dress for some reason, and simply laughed at him.

Arthur stole a quick glance at Francis, admiring how he looked in his dapper striped suit, his long hair now pulled in a low ponytail behind his head. Arthur himself was in a frilly, lacy white dress with a thick red ribbon pulled tightly around his (unusually small for a man) waist.

Looking at Arthur, Francis leaned on the cane he now held and smiled. "Arthur Kirkland, you look magnifique," he commented.

Arthur couldn't help but smile, as the red in his cheeks became more prominent. "Do you _really_ think so?"

"Oui, of course you do. Like the day I met you."

After a brief pause, Arthur replied softly, "You look fine, too, Francis."

"I thought you said there was a fair," Lovino said loudly.

"So I did. Down the road, behind the hill, remember?"

The boys looked at each other, then took off. "I can hear the merry-go-round!" Feli shouted excitedly.

"Tell them Francis sent you," the Frenchman called after them.

After watching the children go, Arthur opened the parasol that had replaced his umbrella. After a moment's hesitation, he took the arm Francis held out for him, and the two proceeded down the road at a leisurely pace.

"_It's such a glorieux day, right as a morning in may. I feel like I could fly_," sang Francis.

"Now, Francis, none of your larking about," Arthur said sternly

Francis only continued. "_Have you ever seen the grass so green, or a bluer sky?_"

Arthur allowed this wooing little monologue, even though he knew better. This little fantasy world Francis had created for them was so pleasant, it was nearly impossible not to break into a romantic duet. The two continued strolling down the path together.

"_Oh, it's a jolly holiday with Arthur,_" Francis went on, using a more British-sounding term for once, "_Arthur makes your heart so light..._"

"You haven't changed a bit, have you?" Arthur observed with a smile.

"… _When the day is gray and ordinary, Arthur makes the sun shine bright…_"

Arthur blushed. "Oh, honestly…"

"… _Oh, bonheur is blooming all around him… The jonquille is smiling at the dove… When Arthur holds your hand, you feel so grand, your heart starts beating like a big brass band…_"

"You _are_ light-headed."

"… _it's a jolly holiday with Arthur, no wonder that it's Arthur that we love._" A part of him wanted to say "that _I_ love", but that seemed like it was going a bit too far, seeing how the two had just been reunited and the Brit still seemed slightly bitter towards him.

The two went on with their little musical number, which included Francis conducting an orchestra of adorable animated farm animals to sing another verse of his serenade, this one completely in French; as well as the two of them frolicking down a hill and Francis producing a bouquet of flowers that turned into butterflies; not to mention crossing a pond on the backs of turtles.

Arthur watched Francis as he sang with a wide smile on his face, and a wave of nostalgia washed over him. He had been a gender-confused witchcraft-practicing teenager touring France, and Francis had been a carefree entertainer much like he was today, when they first met. They had fallen in love and gone on many adventures, much like this one. Francis ultimately left his beloved home and came to England just so they could be together. Arthur, however—who had just discovered this line of magical nannies, the first organization to which he'd ever felt he belonged—insisted that his only lover had to be his work.

Francis led his little song, content just to be near Arthur and see him try not to laugh. He knew Arthur loved him, as much as the Brit denied it. He himself was so madly in love with the Englishman that, even after Arthur made it clear that he did not want him around, Francis had stayed in England in a vague attempt to remain somewhat close to him.

Finally, it became clear that it was Arthur's time to sing a verse.

"_Oh, it's a jolly holiday with Francis,_" he began, choosing his words carefully so as to not send him the wrong message, "_gentlemen like you are few. Though you're just a diamond in the rough, dear, underneath your blood is blue…_"

"Common knowledge," Francis said smugly.

"… _You'd never think of pressing your advantage_," Arthur continued, wanting to make his point absolutely clear, "_for bearance is the hallmark of your creed._"

"True," Francis nearly stammered, trying not to show his disappointment.

They had a way of communicating a deeper message through only a few vague words, and Arthur had just plainly pointed out that he did not want things going back to the way they used to be.

"_I never need to fear when you are near. Your sweet gentility is crystal clear._

_Oh, it's a jolly holiday with Francis… a jolly, jolly holiday with you_."

Forcing a smile and going on with the pleasant scene, Francis led Arthur to a table beneath a willow tree, where a few delightful penguin waiters came out and put on a bizarre little show. Arthur promptly placed his order, and the penguins responded that everything was complimentary. Shooting Francis a sour look, Arthur smiled at the penguins. This was just part of the fantasy world created by Francis to appeal to him, and Arthur was trying to deny that it was working.

Francis agreed with the penguins when they said Arthur was their favorite person, and said very quickly, "It's true that_ Matthew and Alfred have ways that are winning, and Gilbert and Ludwig set your heart spinning. Yao is delightful, Kiku's disarming. Heracles, Sadik, Gupta—charming. Berwald is dashing, Tino is sweet_

_Antonio's smashing, Im Yong Soo a treat. Natalia, Raivis, Ivan, and Vash. Convivial company, make you say 'gosh!' Kaoru and Bella and Lilli are sorts, I'll agree are three jolly good sports. But cream of the crop, tip of the top, _it's Arthur Kirkland, and there we stop!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned away with a sigh, slightly disgusted that Francis could come up with so many people (many of which Arthur even knew) off the top of his head. But at the end, Arthur couldn't help but smile. Francis got up and started dancing with the penguins, which was a most amusing spectacle. Once finished, the penguins all bowed, and one of them kissed Arthur on the cheek. Ignoring the fact that this kiss was most likely from Francis, he got up and proceeded to dance with the well-dressed Frenchman.

* * *

_Well, that's the "some FrUK" mentioned in the description. I ship both France/Britain and Bert/Mary SO HARD, you have no idea..._

_The chalk drawing scene is quite long, so I decided it would be best to divide it among multiple chapters. Review plz?_


	5. Supercalifragilisticexpialidoc ious

Arthur and Francis had joined the boys on their carousel after Arthur had decided it was impractical to leave them unsupervised for so long. Arthur gracefully sat sidesaddle on a lavender horse, head held high with a serene look on his face. Feliciano sat on a pink one (which, combined with the dress, had made Lovino fall over laughing), Francis on a yellow horse, and Lovino on a blue. Lovino whooped and hollered and pretended he was in a horse race.

"Our own private merry-go-round!" Feliciano raved in wonder.

"Très agréable," Francis agreed sarcastically, putting his feet on his horse's head and leaning back, "very nice indeed… _if_ you don't want to go anywhere."

"Who says we're _not_ going anywhere?" asked Arthur, looking at him knowingly. "Oh, guard!"

The window opened and the guard pulled a lever after regarding Arthur Kirkland's presence.

"Thank you," Arthur said with a pleasant smile moments before his horse leapt off the platform. Feliciano, Lovino and Francis; on their own horses, followed after him; and suddenly they were racing. Arthur Kirkland was in the lead, of course, naturally, and Francis dragged behind the others. Down the dirt road, over a bridge…

"My horse is the fastest," Lovino bragged as he passed his brother.

"Do you hear that, mon ami? Do you want to put up with that?" Francis asked his horse before accelerating. He began racing alongside Lovino, and it became a direct one-on-one competition.

"Not so fast, please," Arthur ordered. "Lovino? … Now really, Francis, you're as bad as the children."

"Désolé. Whoa, boy! Whoa! Easy, boy!" Francis slowed down his horse until it came to a complete stop. "Just a bit of high spirits, Arthur Kirkland," he said with a grin as Arthur and Feliciano caught up to them.

"Will you _please_ control yourself? We are _not_ on a race course," Arthur said firmly. Just then, a horn sounded, and a fox hunt passed ahead of them.

"Follow me, please," Arthur commanded before proceeding toward them. The hunters were baffled at the carousel horses as the four of them passed.

It was a grand adventure—the fox was sighted, the dogs ran after him, and Francis decided to step in and save the poor fox's life by pulling him aboard the fake yellow horse. Suddenly they found themselves on a racing track. Arthur, Feli and Lovi soon joined them there, completely unharmed (unlike Francis).

Francis watched as Arthur easily succeeded every rider on the track, even politely asking the two tied in front to let him pass—and they gladly did so.

Arthur won the race and was immediately met with great fanfare. Flowers, photographs, applause, other things of the like. Francis and the boys eat candied apples and cheered him on as reporters bombarded him with questions.

"There probably aren't words to describe your emotions," one declared.

"Now, now, gentlemen, please," Arthur said, trying to hide how flustered he felt with all this attention. "On the contrary, there's a very good word. Am I right, Francis?"

"Tell them what it is," Francis said with a knowing smile.

"Right." Arthur removed his hat and placed it on his horse. "It's…. _Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious! Even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious… If you say it loud enough, you'll always sound precocious!_"

The band began to play and sing along. "_Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious!_"

Francis jumped off the fence to join. "_Because I was afraid to speak when I was un enfant, my father gave my nose a tweak and said I was __méchant. But then one day I learned a word that saved my aching nose—_"

"_The biggest word you ever heard, and this is how it goes!_" Arthur sang along with him. "_OH, supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious! Even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious, if you say it loud enough, you'll always sound precocious! Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious!_"

Facing the children, Arthur sang the next verse. "_He traveled all around the world and everywhere he went, he'd use his word and all would say 'there goes a clever gent.'_"

"_When dukes and maharajas pass the time of day with me,_" Francis added, "_I say my special word and then they ask me out to tea!_"

The song went on like this, upbeat and fun, with band members adding their own story and Arthur saying the word backwards. On their last note, the moment the song ended, the blue sky turned dark. Thunder and lightning broke out, and it began to rain.

Arthur, Francis and the children all huddled under Arthur's umbrella as the chalk drawing melted away around them, until they were back in the park in their ordinary clothes.

"Oh, Francis, all your fine drawings," Arthur mourned as the pictures were washed away.

"Well, there's more where they came from," Francis said with a carefree smile, not even seeming to care that it was raining. "Meanwhile, I'm changing businesses. This is lovely hot chestnut weather."

"Come along, children," Arthur ushered the boys away so as to get out of the rain as soon as possible. Once they'd said their goodbyes and left, Francis shrugged and began kicking his feet all over what was left of his drawings, singing his "chim-chimeny" song about nothing in particular.

* * *

_OH. MY GOD. I AM SO SORRY. I don't know why I stopped working on it, I just did. But I'm back! Okay?! I'm back and I have no intention of stopping again! In fact, I'm probably going to go write the next chapter RIGHT NOW, since this one was so incredibly short!_

_Thank you all so much for your continued support despite my incompetence!_


	6. Stay Awake

"No, no, I _won't_ take your nasty medicine!" Lovino protested.

"Do we have to, Arthur Kirkland?" Feliciano asked miserably as the male nanny handed each of them a spoon.

"People who get their feet wet must learn to take their medicine," Arthur said curtly. He poured the medicine into Feli's spoon, then Lovi's, then his own. The children gasped at the realization that each spoonful was a different color.

Putting the spoon to his mouth, Feliciano's eyes widened. "Alfredo sauce, delicious!"

"Tomato, mmm," Lovino said at his own.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment after drinking his. "Earl Grey," he said finally, "quite satisfactory."

"Arthur Kirkland, you won't ever leave us, will you?" Feliciano asked as he crawled into bed.

"Do you have a handkerchief under your pillow?" Arthur asked curtly, ignoring the question as he tucked the child in.

"Will you stay if we promise to be good?" Lovino asked in turn.

"That's a pie-crust promise," Arthur told him. "Easily made, easily broken."

"Whatever would we do without you?" Feli protested.

As he turned out the light, Arthur said with a small smile, "I shall stay until the wind changes."

"But Arthur Kirkland, how long will that be?" Lovino inquired, sitting up in bed.

"Silence, please, it's time to go to sleep."

"But we couldn't _possibly_ go to sleep!" Feliciano protested. "So many lovely things happened today!"

"Did they." Arthur sat down in a chair across the room and began to sew something.

"Yes! When we jumped into Francis's chalk picture…"

"… and when we rode the merry-go-round and all the horses jumped off," Lovi added.

"… And we all went riding in the countryside!"

"Really," Arthur said like any adult pretending to believe a child's story.

"Arthur Kirkland, don't you remember?" Feliciano asked in confusion. "You won the horse race!"

"A respectable person like me in a horse race? How _dare_ you suggest such a thing."

"But I saw you do it!" Lovino stated, baffled at the nanny's lack of remembrance.

"Now, not another word or I shall have to summon a policeman. Is that clear?"

"It DID happen, I SAW it!" Lovino declared stubbornly.

"Go to sleep."

"I don't WANT to go to sleep!"

Feliciano looked pleadingly at Arthur. "Arthur Kirkland, we're _much_ too excited."

"Very well, suit yourselves." His voice transformed into a low, soft alto. "_Stay awake, don't rest your head… Don't lie down upon your bed… While the moon drifts in the skies… Stay awake, don't close your eyes._"

The boys blinked, bewildered at how it sounded and felt like a lullaby, but the lyrics were telling them to do the opposite of a lullaby.

"_Though the world is fast asleep… Though your pillow's soft and deep… You're not sleepy as you seem… Stay awake, don't nod and dream…._"

The two brothers both lay back down and closed their eyes.

"… _Stay awake… don't nod… and dream._"

Arthur smiled softly as he noted the boys were both fast asleep.

* * *

"Glorious day, Mr. Williams, glorious," Admiral Jones shouted at his first mate the next morning. "No one sleeps this morning! Put in a double charge of powder!"

"A-a double charge, eh?! Aye-aye, sir!"

* * *

"Lovely, lovely morning, Toris!" Elizabeta said cheerfully to her servant.

"Indeed it is, ma'am," Toris agreed. He listened as Elizabeta described her suffrage-related plans for the day, and he joined her enthusiasm.

Turning to face her husband, who was just entering the room, Elizabeta smiled. "How distinguished you look this morning, Roderich."

"What's all that fearful caterwauling in the kitchen?" Roderich snapped as he sat down at the table.

"It's Feliks singing."

"Feliks singing? What's wrong with him?"

"He's as happy as a cricket. As a matter of fact, since you hired Arthur Kirkland, the most extraordinary thing seems to have come over the household."

"Is that so."

"Take Toris for instance," Elizabeta raved on. "He hasn't broken a dish all morning!"

"Really? Well, that is extraordinary." Roderich _almost_ laughed at this.

"And another thing. He and Feliks usually fight like cats and dogs, but today…"

They both looked up at the kitchen, out of which Feliks was coming.

"Like, let me hold the door for you," he said sweetly.

"Thank you so much," Toris said in response with a smile.

The look on Roderich's face was one of confusion and horror as Toris also began to sing. "Toris, stop making that offensive noise!"

The Prussian-looking yellow bird began singing just outside the window.

"And shut the window," Roderich added, "that bird's giving me a headache."

"Yes, sir," Toris said cheerfully, and did so.

"I'm so sorry you're not feeling well this morning, Roderich," Elizabeta said sympathetically.

"Who says I'm not feeling well? I'm fit as a fiddle," he snapped. "I just don't understand why everyone's so confoundedly cheerful—"

Just then, Feliciano and Lovino marched into the room singing "Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious". Lovino handed his mother a bouquet of marigolds, and the servants came out and shook the children's hands and sang along with them.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Roderich shouted. The boys stopped singing and rushed up to him.

"Good morning, Père!" Feliciano said happily. "Arthur Kirkland taught us the most wonderful word!"

"SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALID OCIOUS!" Lovino sang excitedly.

"What on Earth are you talking about? Superca… super… whatever the infernal thing is."

"It's something to say when you don't know what to say," Feliciano explained.

"Well, I always know what to say. Now, run along, please."

"Yes, Père!" Feli gladly obliged, and he and his brother marched off, still singing their song.

Once they'd gone, Roderich sat up straight. "Elizabeta, would you be good enough to explain this unseemly hullaballoo?"

"I don't think there's anything to explain, do you? It's obvious that you're out of sorts this morning. The children just came in to make you feel better."

"I should like to make one thing clear, once and for all. I am _not_ out of sorts, I am in a perfectly equable mood, I do _not_ require being made to feel better!"

"Well, you're always saying that you want a cheerful and pleasant household…"

"Elizabeta, I should like to make a differentiation between 'cheerful' and 'just plain giddy irresponsibility'!"

As he spoke, Eliza glanced at the clock and realized what time it almost was. "Excuse me dear… POSTS, EVERYONE, PLEASE!"

She ran off, and Roderich continued ranting about cheerfulness and pleasantry. "… I do expect a certain decorum. And I can tell you one thing, Eliza, I don't propose standing idly by and letting that cross-dresser Arthur Kirkland undermine the discipline of—"

The house shook and a great _BOOM_ sounded around the area as Admiral Jones fired his cannons, setting it all off into chaos. The grand piano rolled up to him, and Roderich sat down at it and continued complaining about Arthur. Tapping a few notes on the instrument, he added, "One thing more: I suggest you have this piano repaired. When I sit down to an instrument, I like to have it in tune."

"But Roderich,you just got it tuned last week…"

"Madam, that is entirely beside the point!" Roderich declared before walking out the door to go to work.

* * *

_Like I said, I wrote it immediately after posting chapter 5. I have a lot of time on my hands right now, so I just might finish the entire thing today!_

_Heh... probably not... But still, I'm going to write more after posting this._

_Reviews are still much appreciated!_


	7. I Love To Laugh

"Now, let me see," Arthur said, glancing at his to-do list as he and the boys left the Edelstein household. "First of all, we must go to the piano tuner's… And then we go to the baker's shop for gingerbread. Then we go to the fishmonger's, I think… Lovino, stop stravaging along behind."

"Ahoy there!"

Arthur looked up to see Admiral Jones addressing him as Mr. Williams washed the windows of the massive ship-like house.

"Good morning, Admiral," Arthur said in a pleasant voice.

"What kind of adventure are you dudes out upon today?"

"We're going to buy some fish!" Lovino announced.

"Very good! Proceed at… uh… Really fast speed!"

"Aye-aye, sir!" Lovi said with a salute, and they continued walking.

Turning to Mr. Williams, the Admiral commanded, "Let's put our backs into it! More spit and polish, that's what's needed around here!"

* * *

A dog began barking as the trio approached the park.

"Look, it's Mr. Honda's dog, Pochi!" pointed out Feliciano.

The fluffy little dog approached them and began barking, seemingly at Arthur.

"Not so fast, please, I can't understand a word you're saying," Arthur said sternly.

Pochi barked more this time more slowly.

"Again?! Oh, the poor man…"

Feli and Lovi watched, baffled at their nanny's ability to communicate with dogs.

Pochi kept barking, sneezed, and barked some more.

"Bless you… Well, yes, of course, there's not a moment to lose! I'll go straight away. And thank you very much."

Pochi barked and walked off.

"What did he say?" Feliciano asked as they followed.

"He said 'you're welcome'," Arthur said curtly.

"What _else_ did he say?"

"I don't think he said anything," Lovino said doubtfully.

Arthur glanced at him. "You know best, as usual."

"I thought we were gonna buy some fish!"

"There's been a change of plans. Come along, please, don't straggle."

* * *

Pochi led them to a damp alley, stopped in front of a door and whined.

"Pochi, worrying won't help anyone," Arthur scolded. "Why don't you go home and put your feet up?"

The dog yipped in agreement at this, and ran off.

Walking up to the door, Arthur rang the bell. The man who answered was all too familiar.

"Oh, Francis, I'm glad you're here," Arthur said worriedly as he led the children into the cluttered house.

"I came over the moment I heard," Francis said quietly as he closed the door behind them.

"How is he?"

"I've never seen him as bad as this, and that's the truth."

Arthur went to enter the room out of which maniacal laughter was pouring, but Francis stopped him. "How about them? It's contagious, you know."

"Will we get spots?" Feliciano asked worriedly.

"Oh, highly unlikely." Arthur opened the door and stepped inside.

In the center of the room—the physical center of the space, floating in mid-air—levitated a man with brown hair clad in red and yellow, laughing his head off.

"Oh, Antonio," Arthur sighed in a scolding manner.

"Dios bendiga mi alma—it's Arthur Kirkland!" The laughing Spaniard shouted. "I'm delight—" he was laughing too hard to finish his sentence—"I'm delighted to see you!"

"Antonio, you promised," Arthur said sternly.

"I—I know, I tried, really I did, querido, but… I just enjoy laughing so much… and when I start, it's all up with… I love to laugh... oh, Dios mío…" His sentences were broken by laughter.

Feliciano and Lovino both began to giggle.

Arthur glared at them. "Feli, don't you dare. You'll only make it worse… It's really quite serious."

"Oui, whatever you do, keep a straight face," Francis commanded. "Last time it took us three days to get him down… oh hon hon…" then he himself began to lose it.

"_I love to laugh_," Antonio began to sing as he floated wildly around the room, "_Loud and long and clear! I love to laugh… It's getting worse every year! The more I laugh, _oh-ho-ho_, the more I'm filled with glee… The more the glee, _ee-hee-hee_, the more I'm a merrier me! _It's embarrassing! _The more I'm a merrier me!_"

Glancing at Francis and the children, who were both laughing almost as hard as Antonio, Arthur shook his head in aggravation. "_Some people laugh through their noses, sounding something like this:_ 'Mm-hmm-hmmm-mm-hmm.' Dreadful."

At this, Antonio snickered through his teeth.

Arthur shot him a cold glare. "_Some people laugh through their teeth, goodness sakes,_" he continued, "_hissing and fizzing like snakes:_ 'Sss-ss-sss.' Not at all attractive to my way of thinking."

"_Some laugh too fast_, 'eeheheeheheehehehehee'," Francis joined, "_some only blast—_'… HAAA!' _Others, they twitter like birds, _'eewheeewhewwhewheewhewhew.'"

"You know, you're as bad as he is," Arthur pointed out flatly.

"…_ then there's the kind that can't make up their mind: _'hmhm… Ahaha! Eeeheehee, ohonhon…' huh?"

"_When things strike me as funny, I can't hide it inside,_" Antonio sang, "_and squeak—_Hoo! —_as the squeaklers do… I've got to let go with a OH HO HO HO…._"

Finally, Francis couldn't take it, and he too rose off the floor to join Antonio in the air.

"¡Que lindo—I was hoping you'd turn up!" Antonio raved happily.

After guffawing for a good, long while, the two began to sing together: "_We love to laugh! Loud and long and clear… We love to laugh! So everybody can hear…_"

Feli and Lovi began to rise up to join them, but Arthur quickly pulled them down. "Don't you two start."

"… _The more you laugh, the more you fill with glee! The more the glee, the more we're a merrier we!_"

Finally, Arthur couldn't keep the children down, and they both flew up to join Francis and Antonio.

"Make yourself comfortable," Antonio laughed.

"Pull up a chair!" joked Francis, causing the four of them to break out into a whole new bout of laughter.

"I must say, you're quite a sight, the lot of you," Arthur said sternly.

"Speaking of sights," Francis said with a grin, "that reminds me of mon frère. He's got a nice job in the watch factory."

"The watch factory?" Antonio echoed. "What does he do?"

"He stands around all day… _and makes faces_!"

Antonio laughed so hard at this, he clapped his hands and hugged Francis to him and nearly cried. "You made that up!"

"I know! I don't even have a brother! You're the closest I've got!"

Arthur rolled his eyes at the spectacle of the four of them, now doing backflips in the air as they laughed. "Such behavior…"

They ignored him and continued laughing at Francis, who was upside-down and stamping his feet on the ceiling.

"It's the most disgraceful sight I've ever seen—or my name isn't Arthur Kirkland."

"Speaking of names," Francis immediately piped up, "I know a man with a wooden leg named Smith."

"What's the name of his other leg?" Antonio unwittingly asked, then he and the children immediately began laughing. In his bout of laughter, he grabbed Lovino and hugged him close. Lovi was laughing so hard, he hardly even seemed to mind.

"Now then, children, it's time for tea. I will _not_ have my schedule interrupted," Arthur announced.

"Oh, _please_ stay," Antonio begged. "Look, I have a splendid tea all ready for you."

"And it's getting cold."

"Well, I _had_ hoped that maybe… you would just…"

Before the Spaniard could finish his sentence, Arthur used his magic to cause the tea table to rise into the air.

"Espléndido! Thank you very much! Keep your feet back, guys, mind the bread and butter…"

"I knew she could pull it off," Francis said with a smile, this backing up his strong belief that there was _nothing_ Arthur Kirkland couldn't do. "And a proper tea it is, too."

"Next thing I suppose you'll be wanting me to pour out," Arthur complained with a sigh. "Oh, well. If I must, I must."

He rose into the air and balanced his umbrella on the edge of the table. "If you would just stop behaving like a pack of laughing hyenas… Two lumps, Antonio?"

"Sí, por favor."

"Francis?"

"No sugar for me, thank you."

"I'm so glad you came," Feliciano said, "it wouldn't have been any fun without you."

Arthur said nothing and poured the milk for the children.

"Nice weather we're having this time of year, don't you think?" asked Francis.

"Yes—speaking of weather… The other day when it was so cold, my friend Gilbert—Constable Beilschmidt, you know him—went to buy some long underwear. The shopkeeper said to him, 'how long to you want it?' And Gil said, 'well… from about September to March.'"

This sent everyone but Arthur flying through the air in uncontrollable laughter.

"Children, will you _please_ sit up properly at the table," Arthur ordered. "Your tea, Antonio."

"Oh, gracias, querido. I'm having such a wonderful time. I wish that you could all stay up here all the time."

"Well, I think we'll have to," Lovino pointed out. "There's no way to get down."

Patting his head sadly, Antonio said, "Oh, there _is_ a way. Frankly, I don't like to mention it. Because you have to think of something sad."

"Then do get on with it, please," Arthur said calmly.

"Let me see… I've got the very thing. Yesterday, when the señora next door answered the bell, there was a man there. And the man said, 'I'm terribly sorry, I've just ran over your cat.'"

"Oh, that's sad," Lovino said as he began to sink down.

"The poor cat," Feliciano said miserably, as he too lowered.

"… And then the man said, 'I'd like to replace your cat', and the señora said, 'Well, that's fine with me, but how are you at catching mice?'"

The four immediately rose back to their original level and broke out laughing yet again.

"I started out sad," Antonio tried to explain to Arthur, "I try, really, I do… but everything ends up so hilarious, I can't help it…"

"That will be quite enough of that," announced Arthur. "It's time to go home."

"Oh, that _is_ sad," Feliciano said as they all fell to the ground.

"That's sad, that's the saddest thing I've ever heard," muttered Antonio.

"Come along, children. Spit-spot."

Feli and Lovi got up to follow Arthur, as Antonio and Francis sat on the floor together.

"Must you really go?!" Antonio called. "You know, people come to visit me all the time… and we have such a lovely time, and then they have to go home, and I'm very sad about the whole time…" He began to cry.

"Don't worry," said Lovino, "we'll come back soon."

"We had a lovely time," Feliciano added as Arthur ushered them out the door.

"Keep an eye on Antonio, will you, Francis?" Arthur said softly.

"I'll sit with him a while," the Frenchman promised.

Antonio continued weeping like a baby, and Francis tried telling him a joke to cheer him up.

"One night mon grand-père had a nightmare. He was so scared that he chewed his pillow to bits. Next morning, I asked, 'How do you feel?' And he said, 'Oh, not bad… _A little down in the mouth!_'"

Antonio sobbed harder, but Francis thought he was laughing. "I say there's nothing like a good joke," the Frenchman said proudly.

"Yes," Antonio added, "and that was nothing like a good joke!"

They both began to cry.

* * *

_There we go. My favorite scene in the entire movie, with Antonio as Uncle Albert, and that is where I stop for today._


	8. Feed the Birds

Seeing Roderich on his way home from work, Admiral Jones called, "Little late tonight, aren't you, Edelstein?"

Roderich ignored him and just kept walking.

"… Edelstein? Is something wrong? Edelstein!" the admiral called after him.

Mr. Edelstein simply shook his head and marched straight into his house.

Clad in lounging robes, his children met him at the door.

"Oh, Père, we're so glad you're home! We had the most wonderful day with Arthur Kirkland!" raved Feliciano.

"Speaking of afternoons, here's a joke that goes like this," Lovino piped up at random. "'I know a man with a wooden leg named Smith.'"

"Smith?" echoed Roderich. "We don't know anyone named Smith."

"… And someone else says, 'What's the name of his other leg?'"

Feliciano grinned. "And we had a lovely tea party—on the ceiling!"

"Oh, children, please be quiet," Roderich groaned.

"Arthur Kirkland says if we're good, he'll take us there again," Feli continued.

"Oh?" asked Roderich, glancing up to see Arthur coming down the stairs. "Oh, Arthur Kirkland said that, did he? … Will you please return to your room?"

Heads hung low, the boys slunk away.

"Arthur Kirkland," Roderich continued, addressing the nanny, "will you be kind enough to come with me?"

"As you with," Arthur replied quietly.

"I very much regret what I must say to you," their father continued. The children watched sadly as they ascended up the stairs.

"Good evening, Roderich!" Elizabeta said cheerfully, but her smile faded when she saw the grave expression on her husband's face. "Is anything the matter?"

"I'm afraid there is," replied Roderich.

Eliza laughed nervously. "I'd love to stay, but I have to dress for my rally in…"

"Elizabeta, it is my wish that you be present."

"Well, yes, Roderich, of course," his wife said in a slightly flustered manner, and sat down for his monologue.

"Arthur Kirkland," he began, "I must confess that I am extremely disappointed in you…"

"He's in for it now," whispered Toris, as he and Feliks watched from the kitchen. "I've heard the master give this speech before."

"… I don't deny that I am partially responsible for allowing the children to spend their days on worthless frivolity, to the exclusion of all else. But it is high time they learned the seriousness of life."

"But, Roderich," Elizabeta protested sweetly, "they're only children."

"Precisely. And in the light of what has happened—"

"Roderich, are you _certain_ you know what you're doing?"

"I believe I do, Elizabeta." He paused, and continued his monologue. "A grand piano is tuned with precision. A grandiose home requires nothing less. _Tradition, discipline and rules must be the tools_—without them: disorder, chaos, moral disintegration, in short you have a ghastly mess."

"I quite agree," Arthur said matter-of-factly.

"The children must be molded, shaped and taught," Roderich continued, "that life's a looming battle to be faced and fought. In short I am disturbed to hear my children talking about popping in and out of chalk paper pictures, consorting with racehorse persons, fox hunts—well, I don't mind that too much, at any rate, it's tradition. But tea parties on the ceiling? I ask you, _having tea parties on the ceiling_? And highly questionable outings of any other kind.

If they must go on outings, these outings ought to be: fraught with purpose, yes, and practicality. _These silly words like…_ Superca… Superca… Super…"

"Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious," Arthur helped.

"Yes, well done, you said it…. _And popping through pictures have little use; fulfill no basic need. They've got to learn the honest truth, despite their youth, they must learn_—"

"—_About the life you lead,"_ Arthur finished for him.

"Exactly."

Arthur now took over. "_They must feel the thrill of totting up a music book: A thousand chords set neatly in a row._"

"Quite right." It was amazing that someone who loved music as much as Roderich could possibly be so incredibly traditional and overly neat.

"_When playing a crescendo whose tune soars up, their little cup of joy should overflow…_"

"Precisely!"

Arthur knew how to deal with Roderich's type. "_It's time they learned to walk in your footsteps, to tread your straight and narrow path with pride. Tomorrow, just as you suggest—pressed and dressed—Feli and Lovi will be at your side._"

And with that, Arthur turned around and began to return to the nursery.

"Splendid!" Roderich called after him. "You've hit the nail right on the… My side? Where are we going?"

"To the orchestra, of course, exactly as you proposed."

"… _I_ proposed?"

"Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, tomorrow's an important day for the children. I shall see to it that they have a proper night's sleep. Good night."

Arthur then turned around and marched out of the room and up the stairs.

Baffled, Roderich began to walk aimlessly. "Elizabeta… Did I say that I was going to take the boys to the orchestra?"

"It certainly sounded that way, dear."

"Hm. And why not? A capital idea! Just the medicine they need for all this… slip-shot, sugary female thinking they get around here all day. Quite right. Good idea. Quite right…"

"But Roderich, their nanny isn't even female…"

"… good idea, quite right," Roderich continued talking to himself as he walked away.

* * *

"Arthur Kirkland, we won't let you go!" Feliciano immediately declared the moment their nanny returned to the nursery.

"Go? What on Earth are you talking about?" Arthur asked innocently.

"Didn't you get sacked?" Lovino inquired in wonder.

"Sacked?! Certainly not. I am never sacked."

"Oh, Arthur Kirkland—" Lovino began, but Feliciano cut him off and began to shout, "Urrà! Urrà! Urrà!" and hop all around Arthur.

"… Neither am I a maypole. Kindly stop spinning about me," Arthur ordered calmly.

"But—"

"Goats butt, birds fly, and children who are going on an outing with their father must get some sleep. Come along."

"An outing with Père? I don't believe you. He's never taken us on an outing before. He's never taken us anywhere," the boys protested as they were tucked into bed. "However did you manage it?"

"Manage what?" asked Arthur.

"You must've put the idea in his head somehow," Lovino explained.

"What an impertinent thing to say! Me putting ideas into people's heads? Really."

"Where's he taking us?" asked Feliciano.

"The orchestra."

"Oh, Lovi, the city!" Feli raved, turning to face his brother. "We can see all the sights and Père can point them out to us!"

"Well, _most_ things he can," Arthur said slowly. "Sometimes a person we love, through no fault of his own, can't see past the end of his own nose."

This was spoken out of experience. No cross-dressing practicer of sorcery was easily accepted by anyone even remotely closed-minded, even his own family.

"Past the end of his nose?" echoed Feliciano.

"Yes," Arthur explained as he brought a snowglobe into the children's view. "Sometimes a little thing can be very important."

"Oh, look, the cathedral," Feli observed, looking into the globe.

"Father passes that everyday. He sees that," Lovino pointed out.

Arthur looked at them with a strange glint in his eyes. "_Early each day, to the steps of St. Paul's_," he sang in a haunting tone, "_the little old bird man comes. In his own special way to the people, he calls, 'Come buy my bags full of crumbs._

_Come feed the little birds, show them you care. And you'll be glad if you do. Their young ones are hungry; their nests are so bare… All it takes is tuppence from you_.'"

The melody now changed into a more warm and nostalgic tune, and Arthur continued. "'_Feed the birds, tuppence a bag. Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag… Feed the birds,' that's what he cries, while overhead, his birds fill the skies._

_All around the cathedral, the saints and apostles look down as he sells his wares. Although you can't see it, you know they are smiling… each time someone shows that he cares…_

_Though her words are simple and few… Listen, _listen_, he's calling to you… 'Feed the birds, tuppence a bag~…_

_Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.'_"

Arthur repeated this last verse, and the children watched and listened in awe. A strangely mystic glow seemed to surround as he sang in his soft, rich voice, lighting every strand of blonde hair and burning in those emerald eyes, which looked at them so caringly and knowingly. They both fell asleep immersed in his beautiful voice and watchful gaze. While neither could quite place what exactly it was, they were both now certain of something the rest of the world had known for a long time: There was something truly angelic about Arthur Kirkland.

… _Tuppence… Tuppence… Tuppence a bag._

* * *

_The last paragraph, while changed to fit Arthur, more or less describes my feelings towards Mary during this scene in the movie. I think the "Feed the Birds" song, its haunting and nostalgic melody, and the way Julie Andrews delivered it... This scene very well may be the one thing most responsible for Mary Poppins being among my top favorite movies._

_Reviews are still greatly appreciated! :D_


	9. Tuppence

The next morning, Roderich marched briskly down the streets, and his sons struggled to keep up with him. "Remember, now, the orchestra is a very serious and solemn place, so we must be on our best behavior," he was saying.

"But I thought it was _your_ orchestra," Lovino said in confusion.

"Well, I'm one of the younger curators, though in a sense it is."

Feliciano stopped dead in his tracks and stared across the street. "Lovi, look," he shouted, "it's _him!_"

Roderich and Lovino followed his gaze and saw what the boy was staring at. On the steps of St. Paul's Cathedral sat an old man; with a stubble-dappled face and dark, unkempt hair; who sat surrounded by birds of all sorts. There was something eerily familiar about him to the two brothers who watched him in awe.

"Who?" Roderich asked. "It's _who_?"

"The bird-man!" Feli replied excitedly. "He's exactly where Arthur Kirkland said he would be. You _do_ see him, don't you, Père?"

"Well, of _course_ I can see him. Do you think I can't see past the end of my own nose?"

"Listen, Père, he's saying it," Lovino said excitedly.

The bird-man sat with a bird landing on his head. "Feed the birds," he cooed, "tuppence a bag."

"Well, of course he's saying it. What else would he be saying?" Roderich sneered.

"Please, can we feed the birds?" asked Feliciano.

"I have tuppence from my money –box," Lovino added.

"Just this once, please?"

Roderich shook his head. "Waste your money on a lot of ragamuffin birds? Certainly not."

"But Arthur Kirkland—"

"I am not interested in what Arthur Kirkland says, nor do I wish to keep hearing his name for the remainder of the day. Now come along."

"But it's _my_ tuppence!" Lovino declared defiantly, and turned to approach the bird-man.

"Lovino! I will not permit you to throw your money away! When we get to the orchestra, I shall show you what _may_ be done with your tuppence, and I think you'll find it extremely interesting."

The child reluctantly turned back around and took the hand of his brother. Looking over their shoulders one last time, Lovino and Feliciano continued following their father.

* * *

Arriving at Roderich's workplace, he led them straight toward the gift shop. On their way, they found themselves face-to-face with a man dressed similarly to Roderich. He had medium-length blonde hair, and glared at them with intense green eyes.

"Hello, Edelstein," he said curtly. Glancing at the children, he added, "what's all this about?"

"These are my sons, Mr. Zwingli," Roderich replied.

"I assumed so, but why are they here?"

"They've taken an interest in the music industry, sir. We intend to purchase an instrument."

"I see." Vash Zwingli was the establishment's financial advisor, and thus was naturally constantly aware of the cost of musical instruments. "And how much money do you have, young men?"

"Tuppence," Lovino said, holding out the coins, "but I want it to feed the birds."

"Tuppence?" echoed a voice behind them. They turned to see an old man with long, graying blonde hair stagger into the room. "Tuppence? Precisely how I started."

"That's our chairman, Aldrich Beilschmidt," Roderich whispered to his sons, "a giant in the world of music."

"A giant?" Lovino echoed in disbelief. Roderich hushed him as Aldrich approached them.

"Vater," Mr. Zwingli said in a loud and clear voice so that he could hear, "these are Mr. Edelstein's children. They wish to purchase an instrument."

"Oh, they do, do they, boy?" Aldrich mumbled on as he came up close to them. "May I be permitted to see it?"

"No, I want it to feed the birds," Lovino protested.

"Nonsense! Feed the birds and what have you got? _Fat birds_."

The children glanced quizzically at each other.

Aldrich proceeded to sing a choppy, boring song about better ways to spend his money, something about buying one of those cheap plastic recorders so as to get a good grasp on how to play the clarinet. Vash and Roderich both sang along with him, and it was all very dull, and this is the author's least favorite song (not to mention most difficult to rewrite) so we're just going to skip that part.

"Well, boy, will you please hand over the money?" Aldrich asked, outstretching a hand as the other curators did a stupid little dance behind him.

"No!" Lovino repeated. "I want it to feed the birds!"

The song proceeded, this time mostly from Roderich, and continued to be dull as the dickens. They began to approach the boys menacingly, pressuring them more and more.

Lovino slowly lowered his hand, revealing the tuppence; and seeing the opportunity, Aldrich snatched it away from him.

The boy immediately lashed out. "GIVE IT BACK! GIVE ME BACK MY MONEY!"

Chaos broke out at that point. Others heard the commotion and immediately fled the scene. People shouted and fought to get out faster, and all the while Lovino was wrestling the old German man over some tuppence.

Finally getting his money back, Lovino immediately grabbed his brother by the arm and bolted away. They ran out of the building, down the steps and down the street, not looking back even once.

Finally they found themselves in a dark alley, lost and alone and terrified, until they bumped into a dark and frightening figure. Feliciano screamed like a little girl and tried to run away, but the man grabbed him by the arm.

Lovino tried to pry the man's arm off Feli, shouting, "Leave him alone! Leave my brother alone!"

"Se calmer, your old friend isn't going to hurt you," said a familiar voice. The boys both looked up at the man in surprise and astonishment. His face was smeared with soot, and his usually well-shampooed hair was dirty with ash, but it was the same man they knew and trusted.

"Francis, it's you!" Feliciano exclaimed in relief.

"In the flesh and at your service," Francis replied with a tip of his hat.

"You're filthy," Lovino observed.

Francis shrugged and dabbled at his cheeks with a handkerchief. "Oh, perhaps a smudge or two. It so happens that today I'm a chimney sweep."

"Francis, we're _so_ frightened," Feliciano said hopelessly.

"Now, now, n'ayez pas peur," reassured the Frenchman. "I'll take care of you—like I was your own father. Now, who's after you?"

"Our father is."

"Quoi?!"

"He took us to see his orchestra," explained Feliciano

"We don't know what we did, but it must have been awful," added Lovino.

"He sent the police after us, and the army, and everything."

"Feli, don't exaggerate."

Francis furrowed his brow. "There must have been some mistake," he said kindly. "Your papa is a fine gentleman, and he loves you."

"I don't think so," Feliciano said, choking back tears. "You should've seen the look on his face."

Lovino shook his head in agreement. "He doesn't like us at all."

Francis thought a moment, then invited the boys to join him in sitting down on the steps. "Now, excusez-moi, but the one my heart goes out to is your father. There he is—in that cold, heartless orchestra pit day after day, surrounded by cold heartless people who don't understand why he's so passionate about music. No living thing should be caged up like that."

"Our babbo? In a cage?" Feliciano asked, tears still in his eyes.

"Cages come in all shapes and sizes," Francis said wisely.

"But he's not in trouble—we are."

"Is that so? Look at it this way. You have your mère to look after you. And Arthur Kirkland, and Constable Beilschmidt, and me! Who looks after your père? Tell me that. When something terrible happens, what does he do? He fends for himself! Who does he tell about it? No one. He just pushes on at his job, uncomplaining, and alone, and silent."

"He's not very silent…"

"Lovi, be quiet. Francis, do you really think he needs our help?"

Francis shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not my place to say. I just observe, and I think a father could always use some help. Vas-y, I'll take you home."

Francis took one of each boy's hands in each of his own and led them up the steps and down the street.

* * *

_Sorry I didn't put much effort into this one... I got kind of lazy, not to mention I really don't like this scene._

_Also, it has come to my attention that Feliciano and Lovino have been using the French word for "father" rather than Italian. I apologize._

_Thank you for your continued support. Chapter 10 should be up fairly soon._


	10. Step in Time

Francis sang merrily as he and the children skipped down the street. "_Chim-chimeny, chim-chimeny, chim-chim-cher-ee, a sweep is as lucky as lucky can be. Chim-chimeny, chim-chimeny, chim-chim-cher-oo, good luck will rub off when I shake hands with you. Or blow me a kiss—_" a lady in a carriage going by blew him a kiss, and he happily caught it—"_and that's lucky too!_

_Now as the ladder of life has been strung, you might think a sweep's on the bottom-most rung. Though I spend my time in the ashes and smoke, in this whole wide world there's no happier bloke!_"

He continued singing and skipping and shaking hands with people, amusing Feli and Lovi immensely. Finally, the three of them reached 17 Cherry Tree Lane and rang the bell.

Inside, Elizabeta was preparing for another rally. "Toris, see who that is and send them away. I'm dreadfully late."

Toris answered the door to find Feliciano begging Francis not to leave so that he could shake hands with Roderich when he got home.

"It's the children, mum," announced Toris.

Eliza sighed. "I thought they were off with their father! You haven't been running off again, have you? You know how terribly that upsets me…"

Francis cut in. "They haven't exactly been running away, madame, but they have been in a bit of a fright, though. They need somebody to watch over them."

"Oh, well, of course, Arthur Kirkland will—oh, no, but it's her day off. Toris, I wonder if you would…?"

Toris wasn't too keen on the idea. Feliks couldn't be bothered with it either.

Elizabeta turned to the Frenchman. "What about you, sir? You've been so kind in looking after the children."

"Uh—_me_, madame? I have to be moving along, Mr. Braginski's got a stopped-up chimney…"

"Chimney," repeated Elizabeta, "how clever of you to know. Our drawing-room chimney's in the most ghastly condition—smokes incessantly. Thank you so much!"

"But I—"

"Besides, it'll amuse the children!" she added as she ran off down the stairs.

"Monsieur Braginski is going to be very disappointed," Francis pointed out.

Ignoring him, Eliza turned and smiled. "Oh, thank you so much, I do appreciate it. I must hurry—our gallant ladies in prison are waiting for me to lead them in song! Goodbye, my darlings! See you soon!"

And with that, she was gone.

* * *

Feliciano and Lovino were helping put covers all over the furniture as Francis prepared his brooms and brushes, singing as he did so.

"_I choose my bristles with pride, yes I do—a broom for the shop, and a brush for the flu…_"

The three of them looked up the chimney.

"It's awfully dark and gloomy up there," Lovino observed with a grimace.

"There, now, you see how wrong people can be?" replied Francis. "Up there is what you might call a doorway to a place of enchantment. _Up where the smoke is all billowed and curled, 'tween pavement and stars is the chimney sweep world. Where there hardly is day, nor hardly is night… there's things… half in shadow… and halfway in light. On the rooftops of London… ah, what a sight._"

"I do wish we could go up there," said Feli.

"So do I," Lovi agreed, "I like chimneys."

"À juste titre," Francis told him as he stuck the broom up the shaft. "A chimney is a wondrous thing." He explained the relationship between wind and chimney smoke, then handed the broom to Lovino so that he could experience the pulling sensation of the wind on the broom.

"Lovino, be careful," came a voice from behind them. They turned to see Arthur entering the room, wearing a lovely orange dress today rather than a black one. "You never know what may happen around a fireplace."

Just at that moment, Lovino was pulled up the chimney.

"Lovi!" called Feliciano. "Lovi, come back down here!"

"Well, that's a bit awkward," admitted Francis, standing up, as Feli continued yelling up the chimney.

"Francis, I'd thank you to kindly stop putting ideas in their heads," scolded Arthur.

Just at _that_ moment, _Feliciano_ was pulled up the chimney.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "There goes the other one."

"Should we go after them?"

"Well, we can't have them gallivanting up there like kangaroos, can we?"

Up on the rooftop, Lovino was trying to reassure the absolutely terrified Feliciano, when suddenly Arthur came shooting gracefully up out of the chimney.

"Will you put your things on at once?" he commanded as Francis shot clumsily up after him. "Hurry up, please, spit-spot."

"There you are," said Francis in relief as he saw the boys. "I was afraid we'd lost you."

"We didn't mean to," Feli said guiltily.

"Well, no harm done. Truth is, this is what you might call a fortuitous circumstance. Look there." They turned to look at the forest of chimneys that towered up from the rooftops. "A trackless jungle, just waiting to be explored. … Why not, Arthur Kirkland?"

"Oh, _please_, Arthur Kirkland," the boys immediately begged.

Arthur gave an overly dramatic sigh. "Oh, well… If we must, we must." He pulled out his pocket mirror and powdered his nose with soot.

"Fall in!" he suddenly commanded, pushing Francis and the children into a line. "Look lively—jump to it, jump to it. Get in line. ATTEEEEENTION! RIIIIIIIGHT TURN!" He marched choppily so that he was ahead of them. "QUIIICK MARCH!"

The four took off marching across the roof, down a slope, onto the roof of the building next to theirs, past chimneys of every shape of size. Arthur led them farther and farther until they reached a dead end—a fat chimney blowing up a thick pillar of black smoke.

Arthur poked at the smoke with his umbrella, and the others watched in amazement as it formed into a smoky black flight of stairs. He pulled up his skirt and stepped onto it, and the others reluctantly followed up the stairs to a high balcony, from where they had a beautiful view of the entirety of London.

"What did I tell you?" Francis breathed. "There's a whole world at your feet… and who gets to see it but the birds, the stars and the chimney sweeps.

They looked out over the city. The cathedral stood out on the horizon among the towers and buildings, and the sun was just beginning to set—it was breathtaking.

Francis gazed at the scene for a while, reflecting on how much he loved this city. Glancing at Arthur, who stared ahead with a content smile on his face, Francis also smiled and turned back to look at the city. He had fallen in love with London as he had fallen in love with Arthur. And even if the nanny would never have him… as long as Francis was here, in London, he would feel close to Arthur, and that was enough.

"Quite nice," Arthur said at last, "but we should all get in and out of the night air. Follow me."

They followed him onto a large pillow of smoke and let it carry them down like an elevator.

Arthur began to sing. "_Chim-chimeny, chim-chimeny, chim-chim-cher-ee… when you're with a sweep, you're in glad company…_"

"…_ Nowhere is there a happier crew,_" Francis joined in, and they sang together, "_than them what sings chim-chim-cher-ee-chim-cher-oo._"

Suddenly there was a chorus of "cher-oo"s, and a whole crowd of chimney sweeps popped out of chimneys everywhere.

Francis enthusiastically led them in a funny dance, which went pretty much to nothing but the phrase "step in time". While this was a very entertaining scene in the movie, the author unfortunately has no idea how to really incorporate it into this story with detail, so it's only going to be very briefly mentioned.

At one point Francis got Arthur to join in, and everyone wanted a turn to dance with him. Arthur proved to have pretty sweet moves, despite wearing heels and a dress. When he was finished, he simply sat back down and watched the sweeps dance.

Seeing this rowdy display from afar, the eccentric Admiral Jones mistook it for an attack, and ordered Mr. Williams to fire everything they had. This meant that the sweeps' dance was soon joined by fireworks. _Lots_ of fireworks. The sweeps scattered and jumped down random chimneys everywhere.

Arthur calmly led Francis and the children back to their house, which was apparently where the majority of other sweeps were going. They all pranced around the dining room as Feliks panicked and tried to hit them with a frying pan (which was more often Elizabeta's weapon of choice, but you know, whatever).

Feli and Lovi rolled out of the chimney and were placed up on furniture where they'd be safe. Arthur remained calm and graceful through the chaos, as the sweeps chased around Toris and Francis joined in the fun.

Elizabeta had just entered the door at that moment, and hardly seemed to notice that her house was full of speech. Noticing her sash, the sweeps changed their chant to "votes for women", and hoisted her up and paraded her around the room. She gladly marched about with them, happy for the support.

Roderich, who had also just entered, stood at the door and gaped at the scene in horror.

Toris, who danced alongside a sweep, gasped. "It's the master!" The sweeps changed their chant to that.

Roderich stood at the door and gaped at the scene in horror.

"Francis," Arthur said sternly, and the Frenchman sighed and ushered the sweeps out. Each and every one shook Roderich's hand as they left. Lovino tried to leave as a sweep, but that wouldn't fly with his father.

The sweeps all skipped and cartwheeled merrily down the road and out of sight.

* * *

_Oh my God, I am so sorry for going so long without writing. School started and I discovered tumblr, and between the two I get virtually no time to myself at all. Enjoy this chapter, anyhow. I thank those of you who haven't given up on me._


	11. A Wooden Leg Named Smith

Roderich stared down the street after the sweeps, shocked and confused.

"Every one of those sweeps shook your hand," exclaimed Feliciano, "you're going to be the luckiest person in the _world_!"

"Come along, children, spit-spot," murmured Arthur, ushering the children up the stairs.

Before they could get two steps up Roderich turned and gazed up at Arthur. "Wait just a moment, Arthur Kirkland, what is the meaning of this outrage?" he sputtered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Will you be good enough to _explain_ all this?!"

"First of all, I would like to make one thing _quite_ clear," Arthur said curtly.

"Yes?"

The nanny paused, then said simply, "I never explain anything."

He turned away up the stairs, and before Roderich could respond the telephone rang. He rushed to answer it. "Yes? Edelstein here—Mr. Zwingli! I'm most dreadfully sorry about what happened today, I can assure you that—tonight, sir?"

"Yes, Edelstein," came Vash's voice on the other end of the line, "we'll expect you at nine o'clock precisely."

"Without fail," added Aldrich from next to him.

Vash nodded at the old man and repeated, "without fail… Well, yes, Edelstein, it's _extremely_ serious."

"We regret this course of action," Aldrich droned as the young Swiss repeated his words. "After all, you have been with us a good many years…"

"Yes, Mr. Zwingli…" Roderich sighed, "I shall be there at nine o'clock."

He slowly hung up the phone. Feli and Lovi, who had been watching from the banister, stood up and retreated to the nursery. Still dazed, Roderich wandered into the parlor, where Francis remained gathering up his brooms. The Frenchman glanced up but said nothing as Roderich leaned on the mantle and gazed sadly down toward the fireplace.

"A man has dreams," he murmured, "of walking with giants. To carve his niche in the edifice of time." He sat down on his armchair without even removing the sheet. "_Before the mortar of his zeal has a chance to congeal…_ The cup is dashed from his lips. The flame is snuffed, he's brought to wreck and ruin in his prime..."

Francis smiled at him and picked up another broom. "Vie de merde, that's the truth."

"You know what I think? It's that man Arthur Kirkland," Roderich huffed. "Ever since the moment he stepped in this house, things began to _happen _to me!"

"Arthur Kirkland?" Francis echoed, the smile fading from his face.

"Yes, of course," Roderich said distractedly, returning to his monologue. "_My world was calm, well-ordered, exemplary. Then came this… person, with chaos in his wake. And now my life's ambitions go… with one fell blow… It's quite a bitter pill to take._"

Roderich glanced up at Francis. "It's that Kirkland fairy! He did it!"

"I know the very person you mean," Francis said cheerfully. "Arthur Kirkland, he's the one who sings: _A spoonful of sugar, that is all it takes! It turns your bread and water into tea and cakes!_"

"See, that's exactly what I mean!" exclaimed Roderich, leaping to his feat. "Turning bread and water into tea and cakes, indeed! No wonder everything's   
Blödsinn here!"

"_A spoonful of sugar goes a long, long way,_" continued Francis, "_have yourself a healthy helping every day!_"

Hardly hearing what the Frenchman was saying, Roderich continued his rant. "You know what he did? I realize it now. He tricked me into taking Lovino and Feliciano to the bank! That's how all the trouble started!"

"Tricked you into taking the children on an outing? Outrageous," scoffed Francis. "All the important things you have to do. Shameful! You're a man of high position, esteemed by your peers. _And when your petites amies are crying, you haven't time to dry their tears, and see their little grateful faces smiling up at you… because their dad, he always knows just what to do…_"

At this Roderich thought. "Well, I do—I only, I—" he stammered, but Francis cut him off.

"_You've got to grind, grind, grind at that grindstone. Though childhood slips like sand through a siv… And all too soon, they've up and grown, and then they've flown… And it's too late for you to give… Just that spoonful of sugar, to help the medicine go down, the medicine go down, the medicine go down…_ Well, goodbye, monsieur, sorry to trouble you!"

Francis put on his hat and picked up his brooms, and walked out the door whistling, leaving Roderich staring dumbly after him.

"Father?" came a small voice just after Roderich had sat back down. He glanced up to see his sons standing in the doorway of the parlor.

"We're sorry about the tuppence," Feliciano said sincerely, as he and his brother approached Roderich, "we didn't know it would cause you so much trouble…"

Roderich said nothing. The boys looked at each other, and then Lovino took his hand and placed his tuppence into it. "Here, Padre, you can have the tuppence."

Arthur watched from the banister as Roderich stared at his son, then to the money in his hand, dumbfounded. The boys slowly turned and began walking back toward the staircase.

"Will that make everything alright?" asked Feliciano over his shoulder.

Roderich looked up, and gave his children a curt "thank you." They continued back toward the nursery.

* * *

As nine o'clock approached, Roderich began his long journey to his soon-to-be former workplace. He walked down Cherry Tree Lane, through the park, down streets, and finally by the cathedral. He stopped and took a few moments to stare at the steps where the little old bird man had sat.

Then finally he turned and was ready to face his career's impending demise.

Roderich was escorted to the conference room with a stoic, serious silence; almost as if the death penalty awaited him.

"Come in," wheezed Aldrich's voice when he knocked.

He entered the conference room to see the same crowd from earlier that day.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Roderich said nervously, approaching the table.

Aldrich nodded toward the man on his right. "Go on, Vash, get on with it."

Mr. Zwingli rose from the table. "In nineteen-ninety-seven, this very orchestra performed the score to a hit American movie about a great international tragedy."

"But it's only nineteen-ten, the _Titanic_ sunk in nineteen-twelve, let alone movies—" Roderich began to protest, but Vash cut him off.

"This is a work of fiction, and it's very difficult to turn a bank into an orchestra, so the author is slipping this into the dialogue as an almost-clever way to cover up lazy writing. Do you know what happened to that film?"

"Well, yes," Roderich said slowly. "The film was ridiculed for its usage of an overly dramatic pop song by some Canadian harlot, and its starring actor never got the Oscar he properly deserved."

"Precisely. And the score went unrecognized. Panic ensued within these walls. There was a run on this orchestra!"

"From that time to this year there has not been a run on this orchestra," continued Aldrich, "until today. A run, sir, caused by the disgraceful conduct of your son! Do you deny it?"

"I do not deny it, sir," responded Roderich, "I will assume full responsibility for my son."

"What are you waiting for? Get on with it!" Aldrich wheezed, poking Vash with his cane. The Swiss man approached Roderich, tore the tails off his coat, and broke his glasses. Then he sat back down.

"Well, Edelstein," Aldrich said gravely, "do you have anything to say?"

"Well, sir," Roderich answered, almost seemingly about to giggle, "they do say that… when there's nothing to say… all you can say…" He trailed off and pulled Lovino's tuppence out of his pocket and stared at it.

"Confound it, Edelstein, I said do you have anything to say!"

Without warning, Roderich burst out laughing. "Just one word, sir…"

"Yes?"

"Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious!" And then he doubled over with laughter.

The men at the table glanced at each other. "_What?_"

"Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious," repeated Roderich. "Arthur Kirkland was right! It's extraordinary! It _does_ make you feel better!"

"What are you talking about, man? There's no such word!"

"Oh, yes, it is a word. A perfectly good word. Actually, do you know what there's no such thing as? It turns out, with due respect, when all is said and done, that there's no such thing as you!" Roderich grinned pointed an accusing finger at the old man.

"Impertinent, sir!" Aldrich fumed.

"Speaking of impertinence, would you like to hear a perfectly marvelous joke? A real snapper," Roderich rambled, stepping closer to the table. "There are these two wonderful people, Feli and Lovi, and they meet one day on the street, and Feli says to Lovi, 'I know a man with a wooden leg named Smith!' And Lovi says, 'Really? What's the name of his other leg?!'" And again Roderich doubled over laughing.

"The man's gone mad!" Aldrich shouted. "Call the guards!"

"Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious, I'm feeling better all the time!" Roderich raved, waving Lovino's tuppence in Aldrich's face and forcing it into his hand before dashing off, still raving about popping through chalk pavement pictures and kite-flying and spoonfuls of sugar.

* * *

"Mad as a March hare," Vash murmured.

"A wooden leg named Smith," muttered Aldrich. "A wooden leg named Smith. A wooden—"

Suddenly he stopped, and began wheezing. Vash turned to see if he was alright, but soon realized the wheezing was laughter. Before he knew it Aldrich was rising up into the air, laughing his head off.

* * *

_So very terribly sorry about the continued delay! I'm just so lazy and non-committal! I swear, though, the next chapter ought to be the last; and then you'll be done waiting for me to update. Thank you all for staying with me through this whole stupid thing!_


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